


Don't call me baby

by Katzenkinder



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Drinking, Humor, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzenkinder/pseuds/Katzenkinder
Summary: Lucas doesn't go looking for trouble. No, sir. Not him. Trouble, however, wants to be Lucas's best friend whether he wants it to or not. And tonight it comes in the form of a tall, slim woman with messy brown hair.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 4
Kudos: 124





	Don't call me baby

Lucas doesn't go looking for trouble. No, sir. Not him. Trouble, however, wants to be Lucas's best friend whether he wants it to or not. And tonight it comes in the form of a tall, slim woman with messy brown hair. Drunken shouts and angry returns make all the boys snicker as they leave Mika's bar, already making plans to hit up another one. 

"Someone’s having a rough night," Arthur quips, drawing more chuckles from Basile and Yann. Lucas makes a cursory glance at the woman, not really thinking too much about her, and he ends up doing a double take so fast he pulls something in his neck. "Oh  _ shit _ ."

"What's up, man?"

"It's Lucille!" Three blank faces stare back at him. He isn't expecting such a pathetic reaction from them and now his outburst seems a bit overdramatic. "Lucille? Eliott's ex?"

Finally Arthur's mouth drops open, his eyes bulging behind his glass. Yann and Basile look back and forth between Lucas and a very wasted Lucille, twin looks of surprise on their faces. "Looks like she pissed off the driver," Yann says.

Basile chuckles gleefully. "Maybe she puked in his car?"

"You guys go on ahead," Lucas grumbles. He can’t believe the words that are leaving his mouth. "I should help her out."

"Seriously? We just got started!"

"And like you said, that's Eliott's ex. She ain’t your problem, man."

"What do you want me to do, Yann? Leave her here?" Granted the two of them had a complicated history but leaving her alone and drunk doesn't seem like the safest thing to do. Who knows if some creep won’t take advantage of her or something.

"Just call Eliott and tell him to come get her," Arthur suggests. 

"That won't be awkward at all," Lucas returns. "You guys go on. I'll see you later."

"Later, man."

He leaves the trio thoroughly disgruntled and heads over to Lucille. It's hard to make out what's being said between her and the driver. It's more of a shouting match than a conversation and the pair's drawing a fair amount of curious onlookers. Eventually the driver climbs into his car, slams the door shut, and peels off with his tires squealing on the tarmac.

"Well fuck you too, you cocksucker!" Lucille suddenly shouts, wrenching as arm back to hurl a high heel at the retreating car.

Lucas stops dead in his tracks. If drunk Lucille thinks it's perfectly ok to throw shoes indiscriminately then she'd probably sucker punch him right in the kisser if she saw him fro sleeping with her boyfriend. Maybe this is a bad idea after all. Still his gut tells him he should at least offer to help her home.

"Hey, Lucille. Do you...uh... need some help?"

She rounds on him, eyes bloodshot and fiery, but the ire immediately dissolves when she sees him.Her friendly smile catches him off guard as she tosses her arms around his shoulders. "Lucas! It's so nice to see you," she gushes, sagging against him. "I can't find my fucking shoes."

Lucas grips her around her waist to keep her from toppling over. It's awkward. So very awkward. He (unfortunately) is shorter and she's wearing a backless black dress. Plus he's keenly aware of their onlookers. They probably think he's a creep trying to pick her up. 

"Well you just threw one in the street, Lucille," he tells her.

"Oh, right. Have you seen my other one?"

"No sorry."

"Damn it, Lucas. Those were Lou-fucking-boutin."

Lucas winces. Black dress, designer shoes, big shiny earring. She's definitely not dressed for bar hopping. "Big night, huh?"

She scoffs inelegantly and mutters, "It  _ was _ . Can you get my shoe?"

"Sure." She's leaning heavily on him and he has to gently as possible encourage her to stand on her own two feet. Luckily her shoe isn't very far and he quickly runs into the street to grab it. She looks at it blankly for a moment when he offers it to her. "What am I supposed to do with one shoe?"

Why are they even having a conversation about fucking shoes? "Listen, Lucille. You're really drunk. Let me take you home." That was a poor choice of words on his part. He really sounds like a creep. "To sleep. In your own bed. By yourself. Because you've had a lot to drink."

She glares at him, eyes slightly unfocused. Oh boy. He knows that look far too well. "I'm not drunk!"

"Ok, fine. You're not drunk. You just lost your shoes."

"Damn right, Lucas. I don't get drunk."

"Sure and I'm not gay." He says it more to himself but she overhears him and immediately starts to giggle. Actually giggles and she suddenly looks her age. It’s fucking  _ weird. _ "God, you're funny. Is that why Eliott's with you? Because you're funny?" Lucas can't come up with a safe response so she fills the silence with more drunken babble. "Or maybe you're really good at sex? Is that it? Are you some kind of sex god? I never thought about that since you're so…"

Whatever she has to say Lucas doesn’t want to hear it. "Don't say it."

"Short."

"Ok that's enough," he cuts her off quickly, red faced. "It's time to go home, Lucille."

"No wait. I can't walk barefoot! I'll step on something."

"You should have thought out that when you took your damn shoes off." Christ, he can already feel a headache revving up behind his eyes. This is what he gets for being nice.

"God, you're so  _ mean _ ."

Lucas chooses to ignore that barb. He's not going to argue with her anymore because there’s only of option left to get Lucille off the street and Lucas hates it. "Come on. I live around the corner."

Eliott will know what to do. 

  
  


* * *

Eliott does  _ not _ know what to do. As soon as he opens the door he takes one look at the lopsided pair and doubles over laughing. Lucas wants kick him. Luckily he's a little preoccupied holding up Eliott's ex-girlfriend to exact revenge. 

"Want to lend a hand?" Lucas asks testily. He feels like he's going to drop Lucille any second. He had no opportunity to text Eliott about who he was bringing home and Lucille was too wasted to do it for him.

"Oh yeah sorry." Eliott swoops in and takes hold of Lucille. "Hey, Lucy, long time no see."

She rolls her eyes and tries to stand on her own two feet. Eliott lets her but his hands don't immediately fall away in case her legs decide it's not worth it to function. "Don't be so friendly, mister. I'm still mad at you."

"Yeah you've told me."

"And don't call me, Lucy. I hate that name. It's stupid. It's a stupid name. Call me Lucille."

Eliott laughs gleefully, eyes nearly shut. Lucas honestly should be too tired from the walk home to give a shit about two ex-lovers squabbling but he isn't and he fucking hates what he's witnessing.

"I call her Lucy whenever she gets wasted," Eliott explains to him quietly. "Well I did. Lucy is just so fun. I didn't think I'd see her again."

"Fuck off, loser. I'll have you know I was on a date."

Eliott immediately looks impressed as he carefully guides Lucille to the couch. "A date? Who was the lucky guy?"

"A doctor. A real doctor and not the teacher kind with the over embellished diploma. He studied at Harvard, Eliott.  _ Harvard _ ."

"So you're into hoity toity doctors now?"

"Not anymore. The guy was a complete douchebag. The fucker stole my shoes."

"Really." Eliott didn't pose it as a question. Just a statement he was trying not to laugh at. 

"No you lost one at the bar and threw the other one at your uber driver," Lucas interjects. Dear god, dealing with drunk people is excruciatingly painful and Eliott is just egging her on. Lucas drops her mateless shoe and purse on the couch next to her and stomps off to get a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers from the kitchen, now regretting his altruistic act big time. If he had just left her alone he’d still be out with his friends and drinking the night away.

"Wow. What did I miss?"

"A date gone bad and a shoe throwing contest," Lucas mutters but it sounds a lot like  _ haven't you been listening, moron _ ? Eliott catches his eyes and immediately has the decency to look contrite. He takes the glass of water and pills from Lucas.

"Sorry. I can take it from here."

"Fine with me. You guys  _ obviously _ have so much to catch up on." Ok that was a little unfair but Lucille was spot on when she said he was mean. 

"Sorry, Lucas."

"Why are you two whispering? God this couch is lumpy. How can you sit on this piece of crap?"

"You won't have to sit there for very much longer," Eliott snaps back. "Drink up and take these and then I'll take you home."

"Yeah yeah yeah," she grumbles but does what she's told to anyway. Then she stands up, straightening her dress. “22 Rue Camille Desmoulins it is, monsieur!” ****

"No, babe. That's your old place. You moved, remember?"

_ Babe _ ? Did Lucas inadvertently transport himself into another alternative universe and not know about it? 

Realization makes her dark eyes go abnormally wide. "Oh, shit I did!"

"Do you know your new address?"

"No. Did I tell you?"

"No. We broke u, remember?"

"Yeah. Why the fuck would I tell you where I live?"

"Exactly."

Lucas rolls his eyes. Fuck he hates it here. "I guess you're staying with us tonight."

"Yeah you can camp out on the couch and I’ll take you home in the morning."

"Eliott, no. She can have our bed." Honestly making her sleep on the couch is a little too heartless even if she's Eliott's ex. 

Eliott shoots him a dirty look and Lucas actively ignores it. "What? This couch sucks."

"So does your hospitality," he snaps. "Now can you get something she can change into? She's barely wearing anything." Not that he particularly wants to see Lucille dressed in Eliott's clothes but she has a better chance in fitting those than Lucas's. Besides he's getting tired of seeing her in that skimpy black dress. The damn thing looks like it's held together by a prayer. 

Eliott makes himself scarce and the two of them are left alone, eyeing each other carefully. She’s quiet for the first time this evening, effectively unnerving Lucas all the more. He just wants to hide somewhere until Eliott comes back. 

"I like your apartment."

"Um thanks." It's still pretty sparse since they've been too busy to actually decorate the place but the necessary stuff is in place at least. 

"Has he been treating you well?"

He wasn't prepared for that question. "Yeah," he says slowly, honestly because he knows she won’t remember this conversation in the morning. "Yeah, he has." 

Lucille’s smile is dazzling. "Good. I'm glad. He always talks about you when I call. It’s annoying really. Don't worry we don't talk often,” she adds quickly. “Just enough to keep tabs on each other, ya know? Old habits die hard."

"You two look like you're plotting something," Eliott says, bouncing back into the room with an armful of sweats. "Should I be worried?"

"We're planning on trashing your vinyls," Lucille fires back.

"We're going to throw them out the window like Frisbees."

"It'll be a contest to see who throws them the farthest," Lucille laughs, delighted. 

Eliott chucks his clothes at her, clearly aiming for her face. She makes an indignant gasp when they make contact. "Serves you right for talking shit. Go change, you lush."

Lucille flounces off to the bathroom after Lucas points her in the right direction. Even drunk she still can act haughty.

Lucas rounds on Eliott as soon as the bathroom door shuts. "Lucy?  _ Babe _ ?" God, he wants to gag. Eliott calls  _ him _ babe all the time. It’s their  _ thing  _ and now it’s ruined. Probably forever.

"Sorry,” he murmurs, looking down at his feet. “I can’t help it. Me and Lucy go way back. She’s a lot of fun.”

“Stop talking like she’s two different people. It's weird."

“Ok, sorry, it’s an inside joke.”

"Should I sleep on the couch and let you two rekindle the old flame for the night or what?"

Suddenly Eliott looks heartbroken but Lucas can’t find it in his mean ol’ heart to care very much. "Don't talk like that, Lucas."

"Talk like what? I'm not the one flirting with Lucy."

"You think I'm flirting with her?" Eliott's eyebrows shoot up, eyes as big as saucers. Lucas gives him a steady,  _ I don't believe you look.  _ "Come on, Lucas. We broke up months ago. You're the one I love."

Lucas stares at him long and hard. “I know...it’s just...promise not to all her babe anymore.”

“Is that what you’re upset about?”

He can feel his walls shoot straight up to the ceiling. “Yeah! So what?” 

“I’m sorry,” Eliott interjects quickly. “I didn’t think it’d upset you.”

“Ok,” Lucas says and heaves a steadying breath, “then let's clean up the room a bit for dear Lucy."

They make quick work of it. By the time Lucille is standing in the doorway of the bedroom fresh sheets are on the bed and the floor is mostly visible. Out in the living room Lucas turns the couch into an impromptu bed. It'll be a tight squeeze for two people to sleep on but it's manageable. When Lucas finally lays down he feels like he could fall asleep then and there. Dealing with drunk people is exhausting. 

“Princess finally asleep?”

“Yeah.” Eliott lays down and cuddles next to him. He’s still irritated at Eliott but that doesn’t mean he won’t accept cuddles. “You're a good person, Lucas.”

He snorts. "I don't feel like one."

"I’m serious. Not many people would look after their boyfriend's ex."

Lucas wants to shrug but Eliott’s head is weighing him down. “It’s whatever.”

Before the conversation has a chance to continue they hear the telltale sounds of retching coming from the bedroom. They're both on their feet in less than a second. "Fuck," Eliott hisses and takes off to the bedroom.

Sighing heavily and utterly resigned to his fate, Lucas goes to fetch a wash rag from the bathroom.  _ Let Eliott deal with body fluids, _ he thinks.  _ Serves him right for calling her babe. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
